A Savage Dystopia
by TobiasRosetta
Summary: This fic is set in an Alternate Universe. Werewolves were exposed a long time ago, the country torn in half. It takes place present day, but in a war torn continent of Humans and Werewolves enslaving and fighting each other for the the right to live, and the right to rule. Rated M for sexual content and language. Sterek. (Minor mentions of a Supernatural crossover)
1. Chapter 1

"So wait… You're telling me that he went over the border… On his own…. On purpose?"

"I wish I wasn't, but yes, that's what I'm saying. "

"Goddammit, Chris, are you joking, because if you are so help me I-"

"John! Calm down! Look… He's not joking. Stiles… He had this crazy idea that he could infiltrate them… That he could end them from the inside."

"Get off of me Dean! That's my SON you're talking about! My only child! And you're telling me he's as good as committed suicide!" The Head Sheriff of the Peace shook off the younger man's hand from his shoulder. Dean sighed, as he pulled back, glancing to his silent partner, stepping back.

The Prime Minister sighed, as he rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. Chris Argent was a man that rarely slept easy. Leading a country at war against a nation of savage beasts was tiresome on a good day. Now, he had the pleasure of delivering bad news to members of his own Cabinet. John Stilinski had been on his staff as the head of Justice for nearly 20 years. And more than that, John was his friend. Chris had been there when John's wife had died. He'd been there when Stiles had been born. It would have been easier, yes, to let someone else deliver him the news, but Chris felt he owed it to his friend to tell him in person.

He was starting to regret letting Dean and Sam stick around for this, though. He'd thought the two brothers might be able to give John some support, but Chris was second guessing himself now. The Winchester Brothers were his two best hunters. They were practically legend, in their country. New Aurae looked to Sam and Dean as a sparkling pillar of hope, and example, for how they should defend home and hearth. The citizens told their children stories of the two.

"Monsters look under their beds for the Winchesters." That one was Dean's favorite.

They were hardened, though. Numb. Going through the things that these two had experienced in their life long struggle against the enemy had affected them.

"John, look. We're going to get your son back. I've already got my best tacticians coming up with plans. We're looking at every angle." Chris assured, sending Dean a sharp glare when he'd seen the blond start to scoff. Sam finally took the hint, and grabbed his brother by the shoulder, dragging him out of the room, to leave John and Chris alone.

"Quit manhandlin' me, Sammy." Dean growled as their footsteps echoed behind them. The heavy swing of a door effectively separated them at last.

"Chris... He's my son... Stiles is all I have left..." John was a breaking man. Chris had known this would be another nail in his coffin. His face was set in a grim tone, as his hands rested first on the Sheriffs shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

"We'll get him back, John. I won't let the Beast claim him." Not like they took Victoria. Biting back on his molars, Chris inhaled deeply, and sent a quiet nod, to the young woman standing at the door. That was all it took for her to pale quietly, and disappear in the path the Brothers had taken moments before.

"...Sometimes I worry about you."

It wasn't an exaggeration. I really do worry about my sister. I love her. But at the same time, she frightens me just a bit. Seeing her in her element... It's just a little creepy. I think she enjoys training the slaves a little too much. It's not a job for her. It's a hobby.

"Nonsense, Derek. There's nothing to be worried about! You need to lighten up, little brother. Seriously." The brunette across the room from me laughed, as she sat down on her leather-bound chair. A snap of her fingers had one of her obedient pets shuffling forward across the floor. Once the naked human girl was in place, the woman's booted feet came to rest on her back, like a perfectly level automan. I couldn't help but stare, exhaling uneasily.

"Laura... Is there a reason you called me up here? You know I don't really like coming into your..." I was lost for an appropriate word to fit my sister's quarters.

"My abode? My home, my slice of heaven, chambers?"

"Lair." I finished finally, tone as flat as my expression. That made her laugh, as always.

"Oh, that hurt, Derek. You're so soft, sometimes, I wonder how you survive." She laughed. It was all in good nature though. Still, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, lifting an eyebrow to bring attention back to my question. It was trying to keep my eyes on my older sister.

"...Fine. Spoil sport. Someday, I'll get you over this phobia of humans. Maybe someday soon." Ugh... I hate it when her eyes glint like that. She's obviously planning something that's going to give me a headache. "I wanted to show you my latest project. I just got him last week. He's been a fun challenge, but... I'm not sure what I'll be able to do with him. He's not exactly my type, you see." Getting up from her reclined position, Laura walked into the next room. She had an entire wing of the estate to herself. I preferred to keep my privacy, living in the 'guest' apartments. It was the Old Estate, though. The house Laura and I had been raised in. Before our capital city of Fenria had flourished, and re-established our economy.

It was smaller, but it was still extravagant compared to the disrepair most of our citizens found themselves living in. Especially in the towns near the borders. Most of those had become military outposts, over the course of the War. The Division had torn the continent in two, almost. A trench, stretching thousands of miles, separated two halves of what was once the most bountiful continent on the planet. The world we now lived in was Heaven and Hell on Earth, side by side.

"Laura... seriously, I don't have the time or energy to deal with this. I've got reports to read over an-"

"And a giant stick shoved so far up your ass, I'm surprised you can even breathe, Derek. Seriously. You are the Alpha's nephew. You can stand to relax just a little bit, okay?" Laura looked at me with the same worried expression that I could vaguely remember Mom giving Father. Laura was just like our mother. Too much like her, according to Uncle Peter.

Regardless, I wasn't given any time for a retort, or a protest, as my sister had taken my hand, and was dragging me down the hall, to the Kennel. That's what she calls it, but really, it's just the bunk-room for the Slaves she houses and trains. Calling the pets that Laura keeps 'slaves' is a pretty large misnomer. They're more like puppies. Tamed into perfect obedience. The once she likes the best, she keeps. For her pleasure, and in return for her pleasure, she spoils them.

I'm not saying that's how all human slaves are treated, in Louga. Some are treated very poorly, I'm sure. Humans are not viewed very highly, by my kind. At the beginning of the war, it was us Wolves who were hunted, almost to the point of extinction. Even the innocent ones who had never harmed anyone. We were killed without discrimination, until we finally started to fight back. At the beginning of what had been intended to be a silent war, under the detection of normal humans, kept between werewolves and hunters, we were exposed. Our kind was revealed to the masses, and at first, we were captured, and studied. After they learned all they could about us, they drove us back, intending to capture all of us, imprison us, I don't know what their end goal was, at that point.

They underestimated us, and we adapted. We evolved, got stronger, multiplied, and soon we were able to fight back. We grew to stand on level ground with them. That was when the Great Divide started. A 15 year battle that is still ongoing today. At some point, the Humans, in their settlement of New Aurae, began keeping us. As pets. Like our canine ancestors. Any of us they could catch, we were weakened, and tamed, and turned into lapdogs. Fire for fire, though. We decided to use their own tactics against them. Humans are so much easier to manipulate and tame, than a wild beast. Fear is a potent weapon.

Laura giggled in excitement, her own anticipation presumably as riled as my own dread. When she was this happy, it almost always ended up with me, in some kind of pain.

"Say hello to puppy." My sister cooed at me, practically dancing over to the large cage installed in the corner. It was reserved for the untamed, and unpredictable pets that she managed to obtain. There were heavy velvet curtains drawn around it. A technique used for birds, mostly. But it worked on humans as well, sometimes. In this case, it didn't seem to be working too well. I could hear whoever was inside rattling around, chains and all. With a flourish, Laura who was always into dramatics, swung open the curtain. It was the same color of scarlet as her dress, so as it rested against her, it blended. But my eyes were quickly drawn away, to the human in the cage.

I quickly noticed that it was a boy. He was naked, as all human slaves were kept by default. It was up to their owners if they were clothed. Laura only clothed her favorites. This one's face was hidden, though, by a heavy, leather blindfold, and a gag. It was a mask type contraption, which was locked to the back of his head. His ankles were shackled, his hands left free. Though I could see the bruising on his flesh where metal had been, previously. Pale skin, riddled with fading contusions, and dark freckles... He looked like he couldn't have been older than 18, by his size and shape. But looks could be deceiving...

"What's his story?" I heard myself ask. That made Laura grin. She was proud of herself for finding something that interested me. She pushed herself up from where she'd been leaning against the cage. I hate it when she circles me like this, like a wolf pup playing around. Her arm drapes over my shoulders, with a little difficulty. I'm a few inches taller than she is. Her manicured hand brushing some non-existent dust off of the leather of my jacket.

"He was captured inside our borders. Isn't that interesting, Derek? This little puppy is a wild one. He managed to get through the Wastelands, all on his own. How impressive. I've had him about a week now, and nothing I do seems to break him. Short of beating him, I'm at a loss. I might have to sell him off to the farms, if I can't tame him... Or find someone who can..." There it was...

"Laura, no. You know I don't mess with slaves. I don't like it, I don't have the patience." I should have realized this was what she was going to be getting at. How ridiculous. I could practically sense the pout on her face, before she moved away from me and turned to look up with those damn puppy dog eyes.

"I guess I'll just send him to the Farms. He'll spend the rest of his short life working, being beaten... Who knows what they'll do to him..." Gritting my teeth and releasing a warning growl, I turned away.

"It's not going to happen, Laura. Drop it. Do what you must. He won't be the first to go to the farms, and he won't be the last. If he dies, then that will be his own fault, for not behaving. I. Don't. Want. Him." Taking one step, a sound made my next one falter. A whimper. Like an injured, frightened dog. But muffled. It was involuntary, the swivel of my body, to look back. First at Laura. But her eyebrows were raised curiously, and directed to the boy in the cage. Which is where mine went next. He was crouched at the bars, now, hands wrapped around the steel tightly. He reeked of fear. It was like being shocked by electricity, the effect that scent had on me. His pale shoulders were shaking. No... His entire body was. Why was his vulnerability so... intoxicating?

Again, I tried to turn away. I didn't even get half-way twisted, before another sound came.

"Please..."

If I'd been a regular human, I wouldn't have even heard the word. It was barely even what someone would consider a muffled breath. The sound was skewed from the bit-shaped gag clenched between his teeth. But it rocked me, and the heavy weight of expectation.

"Fuck... Laura... Dammit." More silence, as I waited, hoping she'd retract the offer. Naturally, though, it didn't come. "Have him escorted to my house this evening." I couldn't keep the rage out of my voice, and I didn't bother trying, as I stormed out. Making sure every foot step echoed. Who was this little shit, to make me feel this way?

For some reason, despite being anxious and irritable with desire to simply go home, I couldn't. Not knowing that I was now the reluctant owner of a human slave, now. I could practically imagine the boy, chained up, and waiting. Knowing my sister, she had probably instructed the transport to sort the boy out in my personal quarters. My bedroom. She's always trying to get me to fuck something, or someone. Saying that it'll help me to lighten up. Honestly, I hardly trusted anyone, werewolf or human alike, to get that close to me. We all have our personal defenses.

I couldn't stay out all night though. Well, I could, but my sense of responsibility was too strong for that. If I had a pet, now, I was going to take care of it. Him.

The servants that had come to deliver the human were the only other living beings in the house. I like my privacy. So after a quick briefing to learn that the slave had been tended to as far as food, and toiletries (Which meant he'd been scrubbed clean, inside and out.) I dismissed the servants, and wound up in the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water, and heading upstairs. This had to be dealt with, now, sooner than later.

I didn't notice it as I walked up the hallway to my room as I was lost in thought, but opening the door, a powerful aroma washed over me. It was potent, making me light-headed with the first few instinctive inhales. I shook my head to clear it, stepping into the tangy-scented room. Coming up short, my eyes had no choice but to focus sharply on the body that was so artfully arranged on my bed. "Goddammit..." I murmured, gritting my teeth. My new pet was face down on the bed, arms and legs fastened to each of the 4 posts that surround my bed. The large mattress had only ever been lain on before by myself.

Walking closer, I started to notice how warm it was inside the room. Had someone turned up the heat? Maybe for the sake of the slave boy, who was completely bare. So bare, that I could see the pink flush on his pale white ass cheeks, where he'd been gripped, and spread open. That wasn't all I could see. There were freckles. Tiny, dark moles, stippled all over the slender body. Looking them over in a sweeping gaze, I found myself licking my lips gently.

It felt muggy in my room. A heady ambience from the dimmed golden light sconces on the walls, the thick aroma in the air that was mingling deliciously with the natural scent of this mystery of a slave... Part of me was tempted to crack a window, but the louder part of me was unable to tear my eyes from white flesh. I could peek, between those full white globes, a large disk of red. The base of a plug that had been inserted into the boys body, to hold him open.

"Fuck... Really?" I breathed out. Laura had him stretched for me too? Would she stop at nothing? She had virtually served me up the perfect dish, on a silver platter. Or in this case, a silver bedspread. Her irony knows no bounds.

I did not fail to notice the slave jerk in reaction to my voice suddenly permeating the thick air. Reaching down, I instinctively gave his spine a soothing slide of my hand. He shivered, and I noticed how cold his skin was compared to mine. How could he be so chilled, in such a warm room? Were all humans like this?

Regardless, the moment my flesh was on his, I knew I could not stop touching him. There was a subtle thrumming in his skin. Energy, life, electricity, something. Something enticing. Scenting the air around him, I was starting to pick apart the aroma in the room. Ginseng, something else that was sharp, and distinctly floral, slightly fruity, vanilla, and spice. The spice was this boy. My mouth was watering, wanting to find out if he tasted the way he smelled.

I don't even know when I had climbed onto my knees on the mattress beside my new pet. I also didn't know when I had started accepting him as mine, in my mind. Something wasn't right. For a moment, battling with the wolf inside me that was bashing itself against the hard-wrought cage I had built up around it, I had almost won. I was almost able to take my hand off of this... human.

Yet, as you can tell, things rarely go my way. The moment I began to retract my touch, I was given a pathetic, muffled whimper, a visible shiver wracking the lanky form. His fear, and apparent need were enough to break open the look. I knew that my eyes were blue now, glowing with my lack of control. Smoothing my hand down to cup the teenage humans ass firmly, I had to lean in, taking in his scent direct from the source, grazing my lips over his shoulder and burying my face against his neck to inhale deeply. His body shifted, hips pressing not away from, but into my hand. Curious, I took my hand away instead, and slipped it beneath him, palming at his groin. The boy was hard. Dripping pre cum. And as my fingertips mapped down the length of his slender cock, I could feel the line of a restricting, tight leather cock ring, snapped in place to keep the human hard, and in desperate need. This was just cruel, now.

"You need release, don't you boy?" I heard myself growl, in a voice I hardly recognized. It was seething with dominance, and hunger. A jerky nod of the head was returned, with a soft moan. Sliding fingertips too-gently over the others smooth-shaven scrotum, I took my time in feeling is softness, and his wrinkles. The prickle of a couple hairs grown out. But for the most part he was smooth, and overheated. Drawing on his neck succulently with nibbling teeth, I could taste the blood rising from tiny burst capillary veins, to stain the skin a dark, sprawling purple. My marks would linger on the boy. Evidence of ownership and use. Any good slave would be proud to feel the ache of these marks in the morning.

I could hear the moans he tried to stifle in his throat, hips rocking subtly against the embroidered duvet below him for stimulation. It was a fruitless endeavor, but still, it angered me a little. Harshly, my hand moved, coming down across my pets backside with a resounding smack, and an echoed yelp through teeth clenched on metal. Something about that sound made me shudder, a surge of heat and blood pooling in my own cock. Which I had only just realized was hard. hard enough that the zipper in my pants was irritating. It was ignored for now. Leaning up so that I could rest back on my knees, perched on the left of the body stretched out so artfully, I watched the right side of the humans ass turn red, in the shape of my hand. Oh that was a pretty sight.

Snarling, my hand fell 3 more times, once in the same spot as before, and twice at the other cheek, so that it would match it's twin. I could imagine what torture it would be, for his tight canal to clamp down on the black plug, resting immovably in his body. Jerking it forward into his prostate? Possibly. Regardless, in the dim light, I could see a glistening sheen start to form on the others pale skin. His shoulders were moving more noticeably, up and down, with labored breaths.

With a thick swallow, I noticed his hips had stopped moving. His back muscles were taut, and quivering. I slid my left hand over the small of his back, rubbing my thumb into those small dimples over the swell of his ass. Digging into the muscle there firmly, it wasn't long until his stress relented, and he noticeably sagged against the bed.

"Good boy." Murmuring the words out gently, I had to feel more. I wanted to see just how... responsive he was. Claws extended on just my right hand, i carefully traced them down the swollen marks on the pale white globes I had been so focused on, and over the smooth taint beneath the peak of black I was purposefully ignoring. I wanted to be inside of him. Badly. I really did. But teasing him, driving up his arousal until he was leaking copious amounts of pre, and pheromones, this was almost as good. He shuddered, and sighed out through his nose, when my dangerous claws pulled down the length of his inner thigh. The hair on his legs, brown, and coarse, crinkled against the pads of my fingers. When I passed over a particular spot, his entire thigh trembled. So I did it again. And again. Until he tried to jerk away. Maybe I had driven him to that on purpose. I probably had, because that meant...

SMACK!

The sting of my hand against his ass hurt him more than me, and yet, between each one, he lifted his hips, begging for more. At least, thats what my instincts told me. His ankles were fastened too far apart for him to find purchase with his knees, so every time my hand fell to his flesh, his legs slid back out, and his hips collapsed onto the bed.

it was too good. I almost got carried away. But I stopped, finally, when I heard the other let out a sob. I could even smell saline. Salt water. Tears. They mingled with the heady aroma in the air, and looking down at my handy work, I noticed that at some point, I had gotten a little careless. My still-drawn claws had left a series of shallow scratches over his flesh. Spanking him over the cuts must have been too overwhelming for him. So with a quiet shush, I focused again on massaging his muscles, leaning down to give him a few moments of tender affection instead of harshness.

Pressing kisses to each knob of the prominent vertebrae in his spine, I once again found myself at his neck. A few tears had managed to escape the heavy leather blindfold, so I licked them away. They tasted like a dizzying mix of pain and pleasure. Quickly, it was becoming too much for me. Like a pubescent teen, I could have rutted dryly against this boy and filled my pants, if I allowed myself.

There were better ways to find completion. The only route I wanted to take, was currently occupied, so finally, when the human had calmed from his spanking, I decided to take care of that.

Another pass down the length of my slaves spine left a trail of love-marks. Dark purple bruises that had caused no pain, but rather, served to earn me another sob. This time one of desperation, instead of pain.

Quickly repositioning myself between the teens legs, both of my hands wrapped, all-encompassing, around either side of his ass, spreading him open to his limits, so I could even see the way the wrinkled flesh puckered and gripped at the tapered base of the black toy inside of him. It was metal. I could smell that much, under the overwhelming musk of the slave-boys sex. Quietly, my tongue worked its way over the others most intimate place, tracing all around the snuggle held plug. God, he tasted so... spicy, and energetic. The sharp bite of ginger, or lemongrass, was in his sweat, and flesh.

Biting the end of the plug with my teeth, it took a few good tugs, before it finally began to slide out. When my mouth allowed it to drop to the bed below, I was faced with the incredibly erotic vision of my pets momentarily gaping hole gasping, trying to clench down on something, anything.

"Don't worry, pet... You won't be empty for long." Was my soothing promise. Leaning up, and sighing almost luxuriously, it was relief that flooded me, followed by a surge of need, when I finally unzipped my pants, and popped open the button. I detest underwear, and their restriction, so it took seconds to get my cock out of it's fabric confines. Stroking it twice was all it took to spread out the copious amount of lubrication my body had produced in the form of a viscous pre-cum. At the base, my fingers twisted around the tell-tale hint of a bulge, knot already inflating just a bit. This would be a quick fuck.

With that in mind, before I entered, I wriggled my hand under the human, unsnapping the punishing strip of leather that had been a source of pain for the boy. That is, to say, I didn't want him coming right then either. So those same relieving fingers turned hard again when I circled them around the humans dick to keep him in a restricting vice grip. He'd cum only when I wanted him too. Somewhere in my mind, I registered the fact that he was begging, pleading, around his gag. I ignored it, as I pressed the thickness of my arousal right into the cleft of the boys ass, thrusting against him numerous times. The last time I drew my hips back, the head of my cock fit against the depression of his stretched asshole perfectly.

"Remember, boy. Breathe." I ground out between clenched teeth. That's when it really began. A brace of shallow, steady thrusts had my dick sinking inside the boy inch by inch, until there was no more to give. Even if it was an embarrassment, I almost came inside of him them moment the burgeoning swell of my knot came to rest at his ringed muscle. His shoulders were shaking. So I swept my hand up from where it had been bracing my cock for entry, to carve my fingertips into his muscles, forcing the tension out of him. And then he started to breathe. That helped me to relax. It gave me a moment to reign myself in and calm down. Or else this would be too short. Already, I could feel the clench and release of the tight glove of flesh and muscle around my cock. It was too good. Eyes closed, I revelled in the heat, and gave the boys balls a firm squeeze. A signal.

I was starting to draw back. And the delicious clutch of muscle dragging with friction against the tightly drawn flesh of my swollen dick had me releasing a shuddering groan. The sound trailing off to end in a harsh growl. Sounds were coming out of me consistently, as I pressed back in, and then pulled away again. Deep rumblings that emanated from my gut, deep in me. The contented purr of a wolf claiming what was his.

There was no stopping, no going back. I don't know what had gotten into me, but soon, too quickly, all I could focus on was a frenzied pace of push and pull, sawing my cock into the pliant, supple form beneath me, for my own carnal needs. Yet, the hot length that was trying it's best to scald my hand was evidence enough that it was not only me who was enjoying this. The wet slap of flesh on flesh was the predominant sound in the room now, kept in time with low grunts, and moans, and the humans muffled keens and mewls of pleasure, or pain. I could smell a little pain but not much. If anything, he was probably getting off on that twinge he felt whenever I threatened to press my now fully formed knot into him. The stretch was delicious and he shivered whenever I came close to sinking it into him. All of my doubts about taking a pet had been wiped away for the moment. Just as much as this boy was mine... I felt as if I were his.

He was close. So close to cumming despite my suffocating grip on his cock, choking off the impending flow of semen with the tight squeeze. Sure, I had heard of a dry orgasm, an anal orgasm, but I'd never imagined that the bragging had any anchor in truth. But, here, as I rapidly, and relentlessly slammed the blunt head of my length into the humans abused prostate, his legs were beginning to quiver. I could feel muscles pulsing in his groin, trying to force out the cum that was blocked behind my fingers. His abdominal muscles were next, convulsing in bursts, just the same way his legs skittered without control.

Suddenly, a short scream of intense pleasure, and pain, poured out of a widespread mouth, gag useless against the volume of the raw sound. It was the straw to break the camels back, as they say. With a vicious roar of my own, I let go of the wildly twitching cock in my hand in favor of sinking both sets of my claws into the boy's hips, yanking him into my last, hard thrust. Popping in past his fluttering, spasming asshole, my knot was tied in him. I knew, the tiny voice in the back of my head that was drowned out by the screams and the pleasure knew, that it was wrong to knot a slave. Knotting was for mates alone. A wolf wants what a wolf wants, though, and in a split second, I was tied into him, and pulsing.

Below the human, there was a large puddle of his release, a potent smell in the air. And inside of him, my own was flooding, continuously, with every jerking pulse of my balls.

Maybe Laura was right. Maybe I had needed this. The very moment my climax had taken me over, I felt my wolf sated. If you could see him, he would have been rolled over, tongue lolling out as he grinned and panted. That seemed like a good idea. Slicing the rope bindings that had held the human still while he had waited for me, I looped my arm under his unconscious form, rolling us onto our sides in a smooth motion. At this rate, I'd be in him all night, so there was no point in being uncomfortable. Arms clasped around a cum-slicked abdomen, I found a comfortable position in just seconds, before settling for a long rest.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dean, man, come on. Be real. We can't just storm in there, guns blazing, and hope to find him, okay? It's not likes we even know where he is. Louga stretches over thousands and thousands of miles. Most of it wasteland, and what cities there are... Well no humans ever seen them and gotten out to tell us what they look like. They always manage to shoot down our helicopters. The honest truth of the matter is... we have to wait for Stiles to contact us. If he's alive-"

"No, Sam. Not if. He is alive. If nothing else, that kid is smart. He'll have found a way to survive. He believed so strongly that he could achieve something by going over there, I'll be damned if I believe for a second that he got himself killed. I hope for John's sake that he hasn't. " Dean's shoulders slumped a little as he leaned over the large table map of the continent. His green eyes scanning every inch of Louga, wishing that it could somehow give him the answers he needed.

"Alright... Okay, he's probably not dead. But is that any better than the alternative? Do you think he purposefully walked into enemy territory to be enslaved? I don't get it. What could he possibly do, as a slave?" Same asked, gripping the back of a chair, from the opposite side of the table. His own eyes were trained carefully on his older brother. Dean glared at the map.

"Where are you, kid..." He muttered under his breath. Suddenly, he blinked, and leaned up, glancing to Sam. "I get it..." He announced, epiphany flickering over his face. Sams brows furrowed, and raised.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"It's not what he can do as a slave, it's who he can get close to as a slave." Dean said with a grin, taking the tiny metal soldier figurine, and set it on the map, right at the heart of Fenria. "He's aiming for the top, Sam. The Hales."

Sleep had been heavy, a thick blanket over me the whole night through. The first real rest I had gotten in days. Maybe a week? I wasn't really sure. Time had been hard to track lately. When I started to wake up, it might have been morning, I don't know. Opening my eyes showed my a blackness just as dark as the one I saw with them closed. My mind was roused, but my body followed in suit much more slowly. A deep groan sounded close to my ear, warm breath against my neck. The tingling sensation of heat grazing skin started a tidal wave of sensation. My body was jarring rhythmically. It was the motion of it that registered first.

Then pain. Sharp pin-pricks of pain, on my hip. Fingers... No, these were claws.

All at once, I was painfully aware. Confused as well. I have fallen asleep being used, fucked, and here I was waking up to being fucked. Derek Hale was spooning my sore body, and lazily thrusting up into me. He'd fallen asleep with his wolf cock knotted in my... my ass... Oh God.

It's bad that my first thought was to be glad my dad was a country away so he couldn't see me in my shame.

Memories flooded back to me from the night before. Pain, pleasure, heat... So much... Against my will, I could feel blood draining down into my dick, making it swell to full hardness from it's half-mast state.

My jaw ached a little, teeth still gripping at the irritatingly hard gag in my mouth. The reason I couldn't see was that I was still blindfolded. My hands and legs were unbound, but I knew better than to start struggling. I was no match for a werewolves strength. Even if I thought I could get away enough to run, he was in the middle of rutting against me, using my body. Historically that was a really bad time to piss off a wolf.

So I laid still, and let him use me.

I mean, it wasn't exactly all bad, for me. I felt some pain, a deep ache from being penetrated for the first time the night before... Oh well. I guess I wasn't _really_ saving it for marriage. Maybe Derek was hot? At least there could be that...

I'd never seen Derek before. In New Aurae, it's impossible to get a hold of pictures of the Hales. The Louga Hierarchy were infinitely secretive, and careful. No one in New Aurae save for the Argents who had been present at the Broken Treaty over 10 years ago new what The Hales look like. It's smart, really, keeping your appearance secret from your enemy.

My musing over what Derek could possibly look like was broken when suddenly my cock was taken in one of the beasts hands. He was stroking me. Oh thank God. He wouldn't push me to the edge of sanity like he had last night...

The memory of the pain of needing to cum so desperately I had been crying was hot, and fresh in my mind. It wasn't turning me on more. No sir, no way at all. No way in hell. It was just a coincidence that the moment I started thinking about how he had brought me to the edge of sanity with his hands and his cock, that I came, hard.

My ass was numb by now, but by the way Derek shuddered and stilled behind me, I could tell he was orgasming inside of me again. I didn't even want to know how much of this beasts cum was trapped inside my body. At least this time he didn't force his knot in me. When the swell of flesh had popped into my body the night before, I had literally thought he was going to tear me open. His knot was the size of a baseball and I had been a virgin when I was tied to his bed that evening.

Breathing deeply through my nose, trying to ignore the embarrassing stream of saliva that drooled down my chin and jaw, it took a few minutes for either of us to recover. He was the first to pull back and sit up. I didn't want to move just yet, so I didn't. I wanted to wait and see what he would do. The bed barely jostled as he slid off of it. He must have been barefoot, because I couldn't hear him at all. He hadn't gone far.

Out of nowhere, his hands were on me again, gripping me in an embarrassing place and spreading me open. Cold, hard, plastic... He was pushing that fucking plug back into my ass. Stupid wolves and their obsessive need to pack their mates full of cum... Err... Not that I was his mate. No. Slave. Definitely just a slave. I had to keep my head straight. I blamed my sloppy thinking on being tired, and physically exhausted by this animal.

"I know you're awake, so I'm going to sit you up. Don't try anything." His voice was sin...sincerely gross sounding. Yeah. That's exactly... it.

Whatever, don't you judge me.

Heeding his warning, I was pliable, letting him sit me upright on the bed no matter how uncomfortable it was on my used and stuffed body. Dry cum was flaking and pulling at the skin on my stomach, mingling with cooling, fresh jizz. Great. Maybe his majesty would grant me a shower.

Suddenly, his hands were on my head. "The lights are turned off, but it's still somewhat light in here, so watch your eyes." I'd had just enough time to slam my eyelids shit when Derek pulled the gag-blindfold contraption off of my face.

Oh sweet Jesus that was good... I could breath. I could still feel the tracks of leather on my skin but I didn't even care. Using a corner of the blankets, I cleaned the drool off of my cheek and neck, carefully working my eyes open to slits, and then wider. It took a long time to adjust to the early morning light in the room. But when I managed, my eyes turned straight forward.

"Oh, God!" I couldn't help but be startled, coming eye to eye with Dereks flaccid dick. I wasn't expecting him to be standing right there, in front of me. Immediately, I looked for anything else to focus on. glancing up to his face.

Okay. That was distracting enough. For a mongrel, he was beautiful. No, I had never seen a human as beautiful as him either. He was... Godly. And amused. Apparently my reaction had been funny to him, because his lips were drawn into a lazy grin.

"Well then. You can talk. That should make things a lot easier on us kid. Laura said you gave her a hell of a lot of trouble. You won't give me any trouble, will you?" Fucking hell, that voice... It was even more intense to hear when I could see his face to match. Long dark lashes over light eyes, some kind of intense ethnicity in his heritage... Maybe Native American from the old days? Something about him was exotic, and feral, and in command. Even with his sex hair, and stubble on his chin, and especially without any clothes on.

Apparently I had forgotten to answer, because his hand came up to grip my my jaw, drawing my gaze up to his face again. I'd been hypnotized by his chest at some point. Seriously, were werewolves supposed to be chiseled statues of living marble?

"Are you going to give me trouble, or are you going to behave and learn to submit?" Derek demanded in a slower tone, as if I were retarded. A displeased expression must have flickered over my face because for a moment, his grip tightened while a low growl of warning rumbled in his chest. Carefully, I smoothed my muscles with some difficulty.

"Yes, sir. I'll behave." I rasped out. My voice was half gone from screaming the night before. Derek must have realized as much too, if the slow glint of satisfaction crossing his eyes was anything to go by. This ass was happy he ruined me.

"What's your name, boy?" His next question came after a heavy moment of quiet. An uncomfortable silence for me. I don't do silence well.

"Stiles." I didn't think to give a fake name. He'd be able to tell if I was lying.

"Stiles what?" He wanted to know more. He wanted to know it all.

"Stiles Stilinski. Age 16. Human. Occupation: Slave. Favorite color: Red. Hobbies include video games and romantic walks on the beach at sunset." He jerked back, after a moment, hissing as if I had burned him somehow. Unable to help myself, I cringed away from him, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. I was waiting for him to hit me. It never came though.

"Stilinski?!" Derek spat out the accusatory word at me. Well shit. I guess we humans hadn't been as careful with our private identities as the wolves had been.

"The one and only. I didn't realize I was famous." God, why can't I just shut up sometimes. For a moment, Dereks eyes went blue, and then went back to normal. That was definitely a sign of anger. He still didn't hit me though.

"Stay put." Derek ordered, grabbing the phone off of the bed-side table, dialing a number so furiously I was surprised he didn't punch a claw straight through a button.

"LAURA! Do you have ANY idea what you've done? Aphrodisiacs in the incense? A tied up and ready slave? Are you insane? I just raped the missing son of the damn Head Sheriff of the Peace!"

Fuck.


	3. Chapter 3

Honestly.

How the hell could my brother have bad luck of this magnitude?

"Did you fucking bulldoze a house of mirrors?" Derek glared over at me in a jaunty motion, his jaw jutting out in the effort he was exerting to keep himself under control. I could practically see the path he'd tread into the carpet, whilst pacing. It looked like he'd only just pulled on a pair of pants as an afterthought when I'd entered the house. The slave was perched quietly on the couch, looking exhausted, and altogether wrecked. If the situation wasn't so strained, I'd congratulate Derek on a job well done.

...To hell with it.

"Well. It looks like you enjoyed my present." It really shouldn't make me this happy to see my little brother bristle at my teasing. But when he rolled his eyes in exasperation, claws coming out, I was hardly able to keep my laughter down. The human didn't seem to amused by my joke either. Everyone's a critic these days.

"Jesus Christ, Laura! Do you have no sense of tact? Or did you forget on your way over here what the fuck is going o-"

"Calm down!" I snapped at him, stopping his tirade before he went completely off the hinge. I wasn't alpha but I was next in line for alpha, and that put my position above Dereks. He had to obey me. Immediately he went silent, and withdrew a bit, his features starting to even out a little bit. "I realize the severity of this situation. But yelling, and snarling, and terrifying the human to death is not going to help us. Right?" He seemed to follow my slow talk, glancing to the slave who had tried his hardest to make himself one with the couch when Derek almost lost it.

His heart was racing like a terrified rabbit. That seemed to drain the rest of his anger out of him as his shoulders sagged. Only then did I reach out and rest my hand on the side of his neck, feeling his own pulse settle.

Only when the storm that is my brother was controlled, did I turn to the boy, walking over and looking over his face. He did look a bit... familiar. He was carefully looking anywhere but at me. Well, that wouldn't do.

"Look at me." I ordered firmly. He ignored me. Just as he had all the time I kept him in my care. Before I could try again, Derek stepped forward.

"Stiles. Look at her." He ordered in an even, if not irritable tone. There was a brief battle of wills in the boys honeyed gaze, before he finally complied. There was no false sense of submission here. He was choosing to obey Derek. Both my brother and I could see the blatant urge for defiance in his eyes.

"Oh look. Another mutt. Hello." He delivered bitterly. My hand itched to reach out and strike him for his insult, but it wasn't my place to discipline him now. That would be up to Derek to deal with later.

"Funny. Do people think you're amusing back home in New Aurae? The Argents? Do they laugh at your jokes? Or how about the Winchesters? Do you play jester for them?" He snorted a little, and looked away, before remembering his orders, and looking back up at me.

"What do you care? I'm not in New Aurae anymore. I'm here, aren't I? What I used to be is completely inconsequential"

"I'll decide what's important. Why did you come to Louga?" That was the question that Derek and I were both desperate to hear an answer for. The one Stiles seemed the most set against answering.

"Seriously, a guy can't take an innocent walk anymore without getting kidnapped into slavery by a bunch of mangy dogs." He grumbled. He knew that we knew he was lying. He had the same withdrawn, dour expression on his face that Derek used to get when he was a pup, trying to tell Mom that he really hadn't eaten more than one cookie before dinner.

A look that spelled guilty.

"You're a terrible liar."

"Thanks for noticing."

"Answer the damn question!" I couldn't help but snap, my patience starting to grow a little thin. I was by no means a violent person. All of my slaves had been tamed via seduction and manipulation. Though, none of my slaves had been born outside of captivity. This boy was completely wild, comparatively.

"Laura..." Derek said in warning from beside me. I cut him off by raising a hand, and exhaling quietly to level myself.

"Stiles Stilinski. Son of the Head Sheriff of the Peace in New Aurae. A capital city that is roughly 1,000 miles from the Great Divide. That's quite the walk. And another 370 miles into the Wastelands before you reached the Watch Station where you were apprehended."

"Wow..." Stiles was looking up at me as if he were in awe. "You can read a map! I'm impressed. And here I thought all you mutts were all claws and violence." Derek growled, and I could see him reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. It was moments like this, where he was stressed and irritated, that he looked the most like Dad.

"Maybe they got tired of his mouth and exiled him." He suggested wearily. I could tell that this situation was bothering him deeply. Derek took intimacy seriously. It was inevitable that he would be feeling raw and betrayed by this information. A pang of guilt twinged in the back of my gut. I shouldn't have been so hasty with my prank...

"Look, Derek... If he's not going to talk, then we need to call Peter and arrange for a professional interrogation..." I started, preparing to turn and call my servant forward.

"WAIT!" It was Stiles who stopped us from moving forward with this. His face was panicked, heartbeat picking up a little. Cocking my head, I shifted my weight back to face him, hands on my hips. Stiles was licking his lips, looking around with fear on his face. "Don't call him. I'll tell you. I will. I... Please. You don't have to get crazy here, okay?"

He had a healthy fear of Peter. Which was good. We all had a healthy fear of him.

"Well? Why did you come here?" Derek demanded, walking over and fitting the boys angular chin into his hand. Stiles stared up at him, pleading with his eyes, but Derek was unwavering in his demanding body language.

"A cure." He blurted out finally, closing his eyes tightly. It was the truth. A confusing one at that. Derek wiggled his jaw firmly, making Stiles open his eyes again. Watching the two of them, the dynamic was astounding. I had never seen my brother so... dominant. He'd always been happy to remain solitary. Damn close to ostracizing himself into becoming an omega. I felt like for the first time, I was seeing the person that Derek closed away under lock and key inside of himself.

"What do you mean, a cure?" I asked softly, not wanting to break whatever this connection they had going was.

"A cure for what?" Derek added, staring down at his slave.

Stiles looked like a different person as he thought over his answer. This wasn't an easy topic for him. I almost felt bad for being there, sitting in on what felt like a private moment between the two of them.

"My friend. My best friend... A mu... A werewolf bit him. And now there's a huge controversy over whether he should be enslaved... or put to death. I... I came to see if I could find a cure. I made it look like I was coming here to try and infiltrate your government and sabotage you guys, but I'm not. They would have never let me come if they'd known what I was really doing. I... I can't let him die. He's like my brother. My only friend, and if there was any way I could save his life, any way at all? I'll do it." Derek stared at him quietly for a long minute, before letting his face go.

"Well your actions were pointless, because there is no cure." He replied bitterly, and I swear in that moment, I could hear the humans heart shatter.

"Laura, can w-"

"No, Derek. You can't possibly expect me to co-"

"You know we could do so-"

"Just because can doesn't mean we sh-"

"Yes it does!" Derek yelled at me. I had instructed my servant, an older woman who had been with me since I was a child, to take Stiles to the bathroom, and help him bathe. Stiles protested, but Mae did as she was told, and soon enough Derek and I were alone in the parlor.

"You have got to be kidding me Derek? Are you seriously considering..."

"Laura, you remember what Dad used to say." A sigh left my lungs involuntarily.

"Yes I re-"

"Honor is doing the right thing, if you have the means. We have the means, more than any other person in Louga. We can't just let an innocent boy die because he's been turned into one of us!" Staring at Derek quietly, my jaw was tense.

"Why is this boy more important than every single other werewolf they put to death every day, Derek? If you can give me a good answer, I'll consider helping." I wanted to hear Derek say it. Arms crossed over my chest, I waited, as he stared at me in exasperation.

"I... You heard him, he's..." Derek floundered and deflated a bit, turning his back on me for a moment, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Tell me, Derek. Why?"

"Because at least then his sacrifice won't be in vain. I don't want him to hold himself responsible for his closest friend's death."

There was always moments in a person's life when they speak about someone else, but you know that they're really talking about themselves. Derek did that often. This was one of those occasions.

"Derek, you can't still blame y-"

"This isn't about me Laura. This is about two innocent kids, one who became a slave, the other who's about to die for what he is." Derek's shoulders were tensed again, turning to look me dead in the eye. "So are you going to help, or am I going to have to do something stupid?"

There was no changing his mind. Stepping forward, I pulled my little brother into a hug, holding onto him until his stiff arms came up to wrap around my shoulders in return.

"...I'll help."

Finally, Stiles and Mae emerged from the bathroom. Mae's face was a careful mask of indifference, but I could read the 50 year old woman as if she were my own mother, and she was feeling a certain level of amusement over the blatantly perturbed expression on Derek's slave's face.

"None of you have any sense of personal space or boundaries." Stiles grumbled. As if to demonstrate just that, Derek was on the boy, rubbing his hand over the stippled bruises on Stiles neck. I could tell easily that my brother was scent marking Stiles again, after his bath. Even though the boy still reeked of my brother. That was a smell that would not easily leave his flesh. I could also see Derek's other hand moving to grip at the human's ass, spreading his cheeks as if to check something. Stiles squawked indignantly, trying to wriggle away.

"Yes it's still there! Stop it stop it!" He complained. Derek gave a snarl, demanding obedience. Paired with his hand gripping the base of Stiles neck firmly, the boy settled finally. It was amusing to see how easily Derek took his position as this humans owner. "Alright, you've looked, it's there, can I please have some clothes?"

"No." Derek replied bluntly, letting his neck go and motioning for Stiles to sit on the sofa again. He did so eagerly, for no reason other than to cross his legs and cover himself up more. That was, until Derek physically straightened the boys limbs out. "Your body belongs to me now. If I want to look at it, then I'll look at it. You do not hide yourself from me." Stiles cheeks had a cute way of blushing. Blotches of red rising to the surface, even his chest matched as he flushed in embarrassment. But he nodded submissively and let out a shaky sigh.

"Yes sir." He whispered.

"See, Derek, you're a natural at this." I praised my brother, but I could tell from his dispassionate glare that he was less than thrilled with the compliment.

"Stiles." He started, instead of replying to me. The boy looked up cautiously.

"Y-yes?" I could see his fingers and toes flexing, like this stillness he was maintaining was painful.

"Laura and I discussed it… and we've decided we'll help you, and your friend Scott. We can't cure him… But we can smuggle him out of New Aurae. In return, you have to do something for us."


	4. Chapter 4

"This wasn't exactly what I was… Expecting, per se, when you said you wanted something from me." I mumbled irritably as I shifted my legs a bit. Derek… Master… Had a very irritating habit of demanding I sit still. It's really starting to fray my nerves. I didn't have much of a choice, at this point.

"It's necessary. We need your fingerprints." Derek replied back to me. Sitting over there, so smug, and… irritatingly handsome.

Ugh.

"Stop wiggling." He added.

"I'm only moving my toes!" I complained immediately, voice more of a whine than I had wanted it to sound.

"If those fingerprints are distorted, Stiles, I'll have to make you sit to do another cast. And if that happens, you'll be sitting on a very sore ass for another hour. It's in your best interest to hold still."

Okay, that was pretty good incentive. I could already imagine what he'd do to give me a sore ass, and I had a feeling it involved his hands, or a belt. That didn't mean I couldn't glare and pout at him though.

Derek was unfazed by my staring. He simply turned the page of whatever it was he was reading, doing a really amazing job of acting like I didn't exist. I had a good view of him though, and since I was stuck, I decided to take the chance to try and 'get to know' the enemy.

At least, I tried to. But that man's face gives nothing away! Note to self: Don't ever play poker with him. Or gamble in any way, shape, or form if it means betting against Derek.

My intense scrutiny of his face was little more than intensely staring at him, and making faces. It did, however, remind me of just how unfairly handsome he was.

Currently, he was sitting in a leather wingback chair, one long leg perched up with his ankle sitting on top of his other thigh. Long fingers holding stark white pages of paper… I was somewhat familiar with what those fingers are capable of. Mentally, I dubbed them 'Life Ruiners'. His whole body was broad, firm. Skin taut over muscle, cloth gripping skin. On some level, I was impressed that he wasn't popping seams on his clothes.

I couldn't quite make out the color of his eyes. They were obscured by the way his eyelashes fanned out with his lids drooped to read the papers in his lap. I really, really wanted to hate his face. With his stupid cheekbones, and jawline… His ridiculous nose, and that fucking mouth…

_'Ugh, really? Did you really have to lick your lips just at the same time I was looking at them?'_

Sighing, I craned my head back, trying to roll it around on my shoulders to relieve the ache in them. Sitting with my hands in this goop was definitely not something I would have volunteered to do. Especially after being tied up most yesterday. At least I could definitely tell that the goop wasn't so… goopy anymore. It was setting up at last.

Derek and Laura had told me, not long after they had agreed to help save Scott, that they needed my fingerprints. At first, I thought they were just going to stamp my fingers on some ink and paper, but they really meant it. They needed my fingerprints. Currently, we were making highly detailed casts of my hands, to make silicone prosthetics with my exact hand and fingerprints. My prints were programmed into the security systems at all of the important buildings in New Aurae, including the prisons, and government facilities, because of my work in the justice system with my father. I knew about the damage they could do to New Aurae with this… But it was necessary, if they were going to get Scott out…

"So, hey. Umm…" I didn't really know how to start a conversation with a man who was my Master now… "Can I speak?" I finally decided, my tone questioning. For a long moment Derek was quiet, but eventually he marked his spot on his reading and set the papers aside, leveling his eyes on me.

Oh. Are they green? Hmm…

"Alright, you can speak." He agreed finally, his expression suffering as if he was waiting for some kind of stupid comment or question. I was tempted to give it to him, but this time I really did have a question I wanted answered.

"How are you going to get into New Aurae?" It had been pressing on my mind for a while now.

Derek smirked a little, rubbing a hand over his jawline. I could _hear_ the scratching sound of his fingers moving over the scruffy hair on his face.

"That's something the humans have been wondering about for a while, hmm?" He countered, getting up from his chair. His ability to move filled me with a moment of intense jealousy. "What with the inexplicable disappearances, the sabotages, explosions… Our little pranks?"

"It's only been speculation so far, that it's been Louga's dealings causing those. Gerard insists that it's anarchists within the humans. He doesn't want the population believing that Wolves are capable of an uprising. He has the humans in New Aurae believing that you live over here in primordial tribes. Just killing, and fucking. I guess he only got that half right, hmm?" I grinned at my joke, but Derek looked less than impressed.

"I seriously regret taking that gag off of you." He muttered. Something concerned him though. "No one over there knows we're just as thriving a civilization as them?" He inquired, walking in a little closer, checking his watch.

"They don't know anything about the world outside their boundaries. Gerard only allows contact with other Human Cities. Seoul, and Tokyo, mostly. They have no idea that there are human slaves over here, either. Only top government officials know." His eyebrows raised a bit, hands perching on his hips.

"And you're considered a top government official?" Derek asked incredulously. I just scowled up at him.

"Yes. I am. I am the Deputy Sheriff of Justice." I retorted indignantly. He crouched down in front of me, staring up into my eyes with a hard expression.

They're not green, they're hazel. They were a hard grey, with a ring of deep gold around the pupil.

"You were." He replied, firmly.

"What?"

"You _were_ the Deputy Sheriff of Justice. You're not anymore. You're mine. That is your position, and title." Oh, that made me want to scream and yell. Instead, I bit my tongue and stared at him, trying to not be cowed by his dominance. Eventually, though, his gaze was too much for me. I felt… almost exhausted trying to battle him in such a silent war. I knew I wouldn't win against him… But I wasn't about to roll over and give it to him without some work on his part.

"Alright. Fine." I muttered quietly, wanting nothing more than for him to go away now.

"Try that again, Stiles." He demanded. Anger bubbled in my gut but I had swallowed it back. He'd probably smelled it anyway.

"Yes, Sir." How could saying two words be so painful? I wanted to cry, until suddenly Derek moved. He stood abruptly, lifting a hand, and at first, I thought he was going to hit me. I flinched and recoiled, naturally, but his hand fell to rest on the top of my head. He waited until I relaxed a bit, before gently ruffling my shaggy hair.

"Five more minutes and we'll pull you out of the casts." He said softly. "And then we'll have lunch." With that, he pulled away, and turned, heading to the door of the room.

"B-but wait! You didn't actually answer my question!" I protested after recovering from the shock of the gentle touch I'd been given… Was that a reward for doing what he wanted me too? Argh! It's like being a dog! After he turned the corner, I mouthed the word 'asshole' at the memory of his back.

Standing at the sink in the bathroom, washing dried bits of plaster out my arm hair, I was relieved for the moment alone. I didn't really want to look at myself in the mirror again, after seeing how weird I looked this morning though. After being scrubbed down by Madam Iron-grip Ice-Hands earlier, I'd looked in the mirror to see my neck and shoulders littered with bite-bruises, and hand-shaped bruises up and down my arms and sides as well. I bruised easily, yes, but still it was unnerving to know I'd gotten all of that during sex.

Me. Virgin Stilinski…

Wincing and cursing a little at the plaster pulled at my hair, all I wanted to do was groan and curl up in a ball. How long would it take for Derek to find me if I hid in one of the cupboards?

Not long enough to die in peace, that much was for sure.

By the time I'd finally gotten myself mostly clean of plaster, Derek had walked into the bathroom, and was standing behind me quietly. I didn't speak, preferring to wait for him to break the silence. Honestly, I was still trying to decide how I was going to handle this whole… Master/slave situation.

It seemed that he wasn't too big on words either. Without saying anything, he let an awkward minute pass, before clearing his throat. I finished rinsing my arms off and leaned up, looking at him through our reflection in the mirror.

"Yes, Sir?" I asked in a rough tone. Predictably, it earned me a sharp swat on the ass. A reminder to watch myself. I must not have appeared to receptive, though, because his hand connected with my other ass cheek just moments later, to deliver a handprint that matched the other. "Alright! Sorry! I'm sorry!" I conceded early, when I saw his hand draw back to wind up for another. 2 was more than enough.

2 reminded me very abruptly of the ass plug rooted firmly inside of me. The slaps had made me tense, natural, drawing all my muscles in tightly around it. All I could do for a few seconds was grip the edge of the counter and breathe, trying to relax.

Easier said than done, with Derek's hands now gently massaging away the sting in my flesh that he had put there.

"I want you to understand something, Stiles." Derek said quietly. He was looking at me, his expression hard as ever in our reflections. Did he really expect me to be able to give him my undivided attention when he was doing things to my body that no one else had ever done before? Apparently so, because he kept speaking. "I never wanted a slave. Slaves have always been Laura's thing. She's been pestering me for years, saying that I needed one. Until you came along, I never once entertained the idea."

Why the hell was he telling me all of this? Up till now, he had hardly considered me a worth conversationalist…

"When Laura asked me to come look at you, I knew there was something different… About you. Firstly, she never fails to break a slave and tame them. Most of them succumb within days. You resisted her, though, and I like that. Because if I am to have a m… A pet… They should listen only to me. And then I found out who you were… "

"I must be a real prize, huh?" I grumbled, receiving a warning squeeze, fingernails marking my ass-cheeks with little red impressions.

"You are. You are the key that we need to end this stupid war. I'm not about to let you slip out of my fingers, Stiles. No matter how much I dislike the premise of this… situation, I'll take what I can get." I got the feeling that there was more, something he wasn't saying, but I couldn't exactly press him on the issue… So instead, I held my words back and listened.

"I want to know if you'll behave. That you'll willingly agree to be mine; be mine, and I will give you what you want. I'll ensure not only your friends safety, but I'll make sure that when he is here, and alive, he will be able to form a new, happy life for himself. I'll even let him come and visit you. I'm not a cruel man, Stiles. I want this to work out for the both of us." It was…. A tempting offer. Could I swallow my pride, roll over and be this wolf's lapdog? His bitch to use as needed?

Scott had better be damn grateful for what I'm going to go through for him.

"Alright. I… yes, Sir. I'll…" Say it, Stiles, dammit… "I'll be yours." It was barely a whispered through clenched teeth, but it seemed like it was enough for Derek. The man… he almost looked happy, when I glanced up at the mirror again. There wasn't a smile on his face, but his eyes were more… relaxed maybe? Softer. One of his hands left my body, and pulled something from his pocket, lifting it up. A strip of leather with a clasp and a metal ring. A small oval silver hanging from the ring…

That hadn't been in the fine print.

Too late to object now, though. Chin tilted up, I allowed Derek to collar me. I really was his bitch now. Hearing the rumble in my Master's chest, I realized quietly that I could tell it was from pleasure. He enjoyed seeing me like this. Marked and collared. Claimed. It made sense that the damn wolf would be possessive. His hand was on my throat, tracing the seam of where the heavy leather met my skin. His eyes were a bright, icy blue, and the sight of them made my heart race. He must have sensed it, because his fingertips shifted, brushing over to feel my pulse.

"Excited?" He asked with a smirk. I didn't bother to confirm or deny it. He definitely already knew that my arousal was starting to spike, with the way he was pressing his hardening bulge right against my ass insistently. Grinding into the hard, plastic base of the plug. "Tell me." He ordered, his left hand smoothing up my torso, to play at my chest.

"…Yes." What was the point of lying, really? His fingertips plucked and tweaked at one of my nipples. How had I never known before how sensitive they were? Just that alone was starting to make me hard.

"Why?"

"Because you're touching me." It was really hard to not add a '_duhh_' to the end of that. He rewarded my restraint by starting to kiss along my shoulder and neck, biting at tender hickeys. "Mmmnnn…." The whimper slipped out of my throat without my permission. Why was he doing this? It was like he wanted to get me hard, make me enjoy it. He didn't have to though. As my master it was his prerogative to take what he wanted regardless of my enjoyment.

That didn't stop his hand from trailing it's teasing touches away from my chest, down further. When his hand slid over the soft flesh of my belly, it sent a shiver through my spine, wracking me from my head to my toes. His harsh breath sounded very similar to a growl as he responded to my body, thrusting his clothed bulge right against my body firmly. I could feel the heat even through the fabric.

"W-why?" It slipped out before I could hold my tongue. My lips tingled with the urge to move, but after hearing my voice squeak out that question, by teeth sank into my own flesh to hold them still and my fingers anchored onto the counter top, hard.

"Why am I touching you?" Derek reiterated, wanting to make sure that was the question. I gave a jerky nod, not trusting myself to speak. He leaned up, and grinned, quietly tracing the tip of a finger down the curve of my spine. "Because I want to make you howl in pleasure. I want it to feel so good that you'll beg me for it to never end. I want to make your dick so hard that it'll never get hard for another person. I want your body to recognize me as its first Master, and you it's second."

Holy fuck. Okay, that is NOT supposed to be hot. That's bad. That's really sick talk.

Yet… My cock was twitching as his words became even more depraved.

"I want your ass to crave my dick to find release. I want your body to smell of me, to always be full of my cum. I want to ruin you for anyone but me."

'_F-fuck…'_

It seemed like it wasn't just me that had gotten turned on by Derek's dirty talk His eyes… I could see them in the mirror. They were glowing a sharp, electric blue. His teeth were no longer human either, fangs extended and visible between parted lips.

It struck me like a brick wall to the face just how badly I wanted to taste them. I knew though, that I shouldn't. Those lips weren't for me. I was nothing more than an object to Derek…

"FUCK!" The words exploded out of my mouth after a gasp. I hadn't even noticed, in all of my studying of Derek's face, where his hand had traveled to. Before I could brace myself Derek had his long fingers hooked around the base of the plug in my ass, and pulled it out with a loud, wet slurp. The sensation of it had me doubled forward, one hand jerked up to press against the mirror, bracing myself. I was so empty… My body acclimated to being full, to the point that now my stretched muscle was spasming, twitching in want of something to close around and it made me feel strange. I had wanted it out so badly before, but now I had to stop myself from asking him to put it back. The lubed black toy dropped with a heavy thud onto the counter beside me and rolled away slightly, just as I heard the distinct sound of a zipper.

Heat, again. Direct, and scalding, pressing right against my hole. I was already full, practically dripping with the lube that had been poured inside of me after my bath to resituate the plug inside, that nothing more would be needed. No stretching… I was prepared, fully, to receive Derek. He waited though. He waited, guiding the soft flesh of the head of his massive cock around my trembling asshole in circles, spreading around the lube there as if he were waiting. A desperate glance up to him in the mirror showed me that he was waiting. He was watching my bothered face expectantly.

He wanted….

Oh.

"Fuck me. Please, Master, please put your cock in me I'm so empty it hurts. I need you in me." The words came to me with an ease that was frightening. I didn't even think about how to word them, they simply fell from my lips in a stuttering pattern that felt right.

Days ago, if I had met Derek as equal beings, and he had given me the same hungry smirk that pulled at his lips now, I would have pissed myself in fear. This, though, this only served to make my cock throb hard against the cold marble of the counter I was bent over.

"Since you asked so nicely…" His voice was cocky, and rightfully so. He'd gotten words out of me, out of the former Deputy Sheriff of Justice that no person, man or werewolf alike, had ever or would ever be likely to hear. One clawed hand dug into my hip over already dark bruises, opening new scratches that stung would hurt later. The other steadied his dick, and I _felt_him lean in. It was a subtle increase of pressure that made my flesh and muscle yield to him. The plug that had been in me was nowhere near as wide as him, or as long for that matter. Having him inside of me the night before, or even that morning… Those memories failed me now as my entire focus narrowed sharply to the familiar aching stretch as his body pressed inward.

The walls of my ass gratefully clamped down on him, molding to the shape of his veiny cock with every inch he pressed in. More than half way inside, his hand left his length to grab the other side of my hips. He was still for the moment, giving me a chance to exhale the breath I'd been holding. Shuddering before I could start to relax, I let my head droop and press against the cold mirror. It was a short lived contact, as Derek felt me relax enough.

Enough to yank me back by my hips the rest of the way onto him.

The cry that left my lips was more of surprise than anything. It didn't hurt. Not really. It would later, probably. At the moment though, I couldn't be more pleased to finally be full to the brim again. 7 inches. If you'd asked me a couple days ago if I could have ever taken a 7 inch dick to the base inside any part of my body, I would have laughed so hard I'd be crying. Of course, I was almost crying now for the same reason.

It was like a floodgate had been opened, releasing all of Derek's abandon. He didn't pause for very long after his groin slapped against my ass that first time. Maybe 5 seconds before he drew back, hands pushing me forwards simultaneously to pull as apart. Abruptly, he decided that was far enough, and in a flash, our bodies connected again… and again… and again. His pace was fast, brutal, but it was perfect. Every forward bounce of my body off of his hips had me gasping, until at least moans began to leave my throat. It was a hard and unforgiving fuck I was being used for but it was hot, and nasty, and I was harder than ever.

It was because I was watching us in the mirror. I was watching my face as my body was used like a toy for Derek to fuck ruthlessly. His face, as he stared with gritted fangs down at the spat where his cock speared into me. His hands were so wide… Even though his fingers curled around my thin hip bones, his thumbs stretched inward, spreading my cheeks wide open for him to see and angry red swell of my abused hole gripping his lube slicked cock with every inward and outward motion, grasping.

The friction was beautiful. Even if I felt nothing else from this, just the friction would have been enough for me. He had other plans though. Grunting, he shifted the angle and the next time his hips met my ass in that loud, resounding slap, I felt it. The sharp pull of nerves. He hit that spot that made my balls lift up tight and made my cock jerk. It was like lighting a fire in my gut. Everything tightened and the whine that left me was pathetic.

He kept up this angle, and every few thrusts, I could feel it. His cock grinding, pounding across that spot. After a few of those muscle-twitching, breath-stopping slams, he seemed to take on a whole new level of desperation. A hand moved from my hip. His thrusts became slower, more grinding as he reached below me. His palm pressed against the underside of my cock, sandwiching it against my stomach. His every deep thrust rocked my dick into his hand, and after that it wasn't long. Seconds, maybe, before I was cumming, pouring against my stomach, and the counter. Long, thick pulses of pent up cum emptying out of me finally.

I wasn't allowed to bask in my orgasm long. Derek's body was so tense behind me I could feel him shuddering, as well as some heat, flooding into me. He'd started cumming, but after only a pump or two of his liquid into me, he pulled out, a hand clamped around his dick.

"Around… Turn around… Get on your knees bitch." His voice was hardly human, his face not much better. I obeyed without thought, still hazy from my orgasm. My muscles were limp, and I felt boneless as I slid onto my knees on the cold tile flooring. His free hand was suddenly in my hair, yanking my head backwards and…

Wet heat rained down onto my face and into my open mouth. I closed my eyes in time to save them from a blast of cum which landed right over my left eye. I could feel it weighing down my eyelashes there. The head of his dick rested against my bottom lip now, and the next few dollops of his seed went straight onto my tongue, rolling back down towards my throat. At first, I gagged at the sensation, but once I had my throat under control, I made myself swallow. The taste was bitter, salty, and definitely potent. Masculine. I didn't really like it, but it wasn't horrible. I could probably get used to it.

It seemed I would have to, because now that Dereks long orgasm had finally subsided, he started to gather up the cum on my face with his fingers, scooping it into my mouth. Once he was content that he'd gotten up most of it, he waited for me to swallow, before wiping his fingers off on my tongue, and letting my hair go. His hands yanked me up to my feet again, turning me to bend over once more, chest sliding onto my cooled cum on the counter.

Cold plastic was suddenly pressing into my ass again, pushing back in Derek's cum that had been threatening to trickle out. I was thoroughly fucked and… content. I was sated from the orgasm I'd been allowed, enough that I didn't mind the lingering taste of cum in my mouth, or the way Derek twisted the plug into my ass again.

When he pulled me back up again, he was much more gentle, guiding me to sit on the edge of the tub. I couldn't open my eyes yet, not with some cum still lingering over my eyes. Soon, though, I heard the sink turn on, water rushing, but muffled as if it's flow was interfered with. It shut off soon enough and seconds after it had, there was a warm, wet cloth pressing into my face, carefully cleaning me off until I could open my eyes.

Derek was quietly bathing cum residue from my body before it dried. His face was back to normal now, human, and impassable. He was being so gentle, now, with the way that he cleaned me, it left me feeling… confused. How he could go from viciously fucking me into oblivion, and then treating me so carefully in the next moment. He didn't say anything until he was done.

"Go lay down and rest. I'll have someone bring up some food for you in an hour."


End file.
